Texting and driving and Burma Shave

Few of us are left who remember the little ditties beside the road.  My favorite one went something like:  In school zones heed speed instructions.  Protect the little tax deductions. 

It must have been my favorite.  It is the only one I still remember.  School has already started in many communities.  I am a teacher.  A couple of years ago, one of my students was hit by a truck as he stood in line at the bus stop.  Yes, the driver was drunk.  Yes, it was about 7:00 a.m.  Yes, the child survived.  He was in the hospital for a while, recuperating at home for a while.  He graduated to a wheel chair for a while, then to crutches. 

Two of my children have been hit by cars.  (They were both 12 when it happened.)  My daughter wanted to wait until after Grand Council Fire to go to the clinic.  She was more worried about her new shirt than about her body.  My son was taken to the hospital in an ambulance as was the driver of the car who hit him.  Poor old guy, it was a Friday, and he was scheduled to have open heart surgery the following Monday.  My son was out of the hospital later that day.  Bumps, bruises, scratches, abrasions, lacerations, road rash galore all gave him a great story to tell on Monday when he got back to school.  Both of mine were hit because they weren’t paying attention to traffic when they crossed the road.  Both times the driver was MUCH more traumatized than the child.  Let me say that neither of my children were seriously injured.

I don’t know how I would react if I lost one of my children or one of my students.  Sometimes, accidents are unavoidable.  Texting and driving is avoidable.  If your message is so important that it cannot wait until you get where you’re going.  Pull into a parking lot.  Pull off the road.  Put on your flashers if you’re next to the road.  I do not want the death or damage of a child on my heart forever.  Neither do you.  Can we make a pact not to text and drive? 



Funny thing, jealousy.

My truck broke down. While it was in the shop a friend loaned me his Miata convertible. I was in Tulsa Monday and Tuesday of last week. I could say that I was driving home, but that would be an understatement. I had the top down and was singing at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t speeding much.  I didn’t have to speed.  The speed limit was 75.

Yes, you’re right.  Even at 75 miles per hour, I am much too pale to have been sitting in the sun that long.  The thought really stayed in my mind for a long time.  “This is going to hurt tomorrow!  It feels great today.”  My face is peeling–not pretty!
Back to the jealousy.  I passed a two-toned pickup truck. You know the kind. The cab is one color and the bed is another, entirely different color. The tailgate particularly caught my attention because it matched most of the cab. I think the driver’s door matched the bed.  It was closer to the orange of the bed than it was to the blue of the cab.

I was jealous because he was in a truck and I was not.  Did I mention that I was in a wonderful mood?  I was surprised by jealousy.  I was offended that I was jealous of that ratty old truck!  So, I turned it into a song.  It’s terribly funny.  I made fun of me for being envious of his tail gate.  Tail gates are extremely useful.  The song mentions a few of them.  I think Toby Keith could take the song to #1.  If you know Toby, have him contact me.   If it doesn’t make it to the top ten, he won’t owe me a dime in royalties.  (At least that’s my plan of the moment.)

Cruisin along in my pick-em-up truck                                        Laughing at your ’cause your ride really sucks.                              You should have thought ‘fore you signed on that line                 Tail gate envy hurts every time.

You get the drift.  There’s much more, but it is still a work in progress.  Aren’t we all works in progress?

Blessings to you and yours

Be good to people.  Most of them are hurting.